Confessions of a Self Harmer

Kortney is happy with me.
But a part of me still hates her.
A part of me hates my mother.
A part of me hates my sisters.
A part of me hates my therapist.
A part of me even hates my Father.
Ya know, the one in the sky.
Not my Dad.
But the rest of me, hates me.
But I only think about that when I’m alone.
In the early morning before my eyes close to grace my body with no more than 3 hours of sleep I think of these things.
I think of the hate I feel.
But when I don’t think of the hate,
I think of the cutting.
No one warns you how addicting it is.
But how can I cut with everyone watching me?
All the time.
At home it’s my family.
At school it’s my friends.
There is only one place where it’s just me.
The gritty bathroom stall.
That’s where I use my safety pin.
For emergencies only.
I know.
But this is an emergency.
It always is.